A glisten in the sun

Today I had a vivid memory of fishing with my dad. I pictured that moment when the fish you have hooked is right near the surface and you can see its scales glisten in the sun for an instant before it plunges back down refusing to surface. I remember seeing them swim sideways and even spiting out their stomaches to try and free themselves. I remember seeing them open and close their mouths as I stared at them face to face.

I don't remember ever wondering what such an experience might be like: being pulled out of where you have always existed. Normaly only leaving the water for an instant here or there because you see a tastey morsel just on the other side of the surface, but quickly returning. Then one day you are cruising around like normal, doing your thing, and you realize there is a line ever go gently (or not so gently) pulling you around. The panic doesn't set in right away. It sets in when you realize that this line is taking you out of the water where you might be held up next to someones face as you suck at the air to no avail. Where you cannot possilbly survive. Soon to die of suffocation and be left in the sun to rot.

Maybe the experience is nothing like this. Maybe it is all just a mindless responce to being pulled in a direction. I wonder if they do feel for their life as they feel a pierce through their lip and this all begins. I wonder if they would feel the same if the lake was polluted and on fire.

As I sit and wonder what it might be like I can't help but think that I feel like that about God from time to time. Even a little right now.